November 2011

November 30, 2011

Look at the salad Husband made for me! It's got lettuce, spinach, cucumber, red pepper, celery, chopped almonds, cheddar shavings, and smoked mackerel. Yes, smoked mackerel from Ducktrap River in Maine. Very tasty, cheaper than smoked salmon, and lots of omega-3s. Whole Foods carries it. We also like the Memphis-style smoked bluefish from Dave's Cape Cod Smokehouse, which you can find at the Wayland Winter Farmer's Market (starting January 7, 2012). Perfect for when you don't feel like cooking.

November 29, 2011

November 22, 2011

Want to blow somebody's mind this Thanksgiving? Serve these Brussels sprouts. Yes, Brussels sprouts. No, this isn't some kind of sick joke. They're browned, smothered in cream, then braised until silken deliciousness is achieved. Cruciferous candy. Sure, there are plenty of lower calorie ways of making Brussels sprouts, but it IS Thanksgiving after all. And today, I'm thankful for cream!

Creamy Braised Brussels Sprouts

One bite and the ThirdGrader said, Brussels sprouts aren't as evil as I thought!

Melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Cook sprouts until lightly browned in spots, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in cream and bring to a simmer. Cover, reduce heat to low, and cook 20-25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until sprouts are tender and cream is reduced and lightly brown. Sprinkle with lemon juice to taste, perhaps more salt and pepper, and serve.

November 17, 2011

Since I was born in Maine, bred in Massachusetts, and have a lobster prominently featured on my blog's masthead, one might naturally assume that I have a side of lobster with every meal as a matter of course. In fact, I hardly ever eat lobster. They're expensive and I don't love killing them. But I do find them very succulent indeed. We're lucky that my father-in-law has a few lobster traps so we get to enjoy the occasional free lobster dinner complete with ocean view. The richness of such a meal can tide you over for quite a while. In my own house, however, I cook lobster only rarely.

Cape Ann Fresh Catch, my fish CSA, offered lobsters for sale last week for the first time. I took this as a cosmic sign that lobster should cycle onto the menu once again. I've always wanted to try to recreate the wonderful lobster bisque from Cape Cod's Brewster Fish House. It's my favorite bisque ever and is notable because the lobster is not pureed into the soup, but rather cut into pieces so you get all the flavor of a bisque with the satisfaction of little lumps of lobster meat like a chowder. It's sweet and spicy and I love it.

That's what I was daydreaming about as a Gloucester fisherman dropped a pair of lobsters into my cooler. I happily drove them home, not a care in the world, until I'm standing eye to eye with one of them, a steaming pot of water nearby. I always forget about this part. The final act. The dread starts to bubble up from the recesses of my soul. Is the feeling worse now that I've had a chance to peek into the abyss myself? Perhaps. And yet I'm committed. I can't drive them back to the beach now. Not in rush hour traffic. Nobody will survive that!

There's no girlish squealing or Woody Allen-esque pacing and bemoaning that goes on during this process, mostly because I want the deed done as quickly as possible for everyone's sake. From the dark safety of the cooler to the dark danger of the pot, I aim for 10 seconds max. I snip off the claw bands with kitchen shears while my other hand holds the carapace firmly from behind. It's clear I have a feisty one on my hands. No sooner do the rubber bands shoot across the room unleashing his weapons than he somehow gets the blades of my scissors clamped in one of his claws, tail flipping up and down madly against his chest. I admire his will to live. I'm rooting for him, and yet too much struggling just delays the inevitable. I admit to administering some soothing words, which are all but useless to a lobster and entirely for my own benefit. No, the lobster is not going to calm down, Tammy. No, everything is not going to be okay. Not for him!

As I twist the scissors free, force him down into the pot, close the lid, and repeat the process for number 2, I wonder how I went from being a nurturing maternal figure to a cold-blooded murderer in the span of five minutes? That's when I realize that, no, I've been both all along. My love of meat is well documented. I just don't like to be the one who actually has to snuff out the life force. I prefer to let other people do the snuffing. Then maybe I can pretend the snuffing never took place at all. I'm a live and let live kind of gal. Unless I'm hungry, that much is clear. Or you come knocking on my door trying to sell me your service/product/religion/political view in the middle of dinnertime. Then all bets are off. My stockpot is really big. You've been warned!

November 14, 2011

I think I've mentioned my tendency to make overtly sexualcomments without the slightest bit of awareness. Luckily, Husband calls me on it every single time. It didn't take me long to accumulate enough material for a post, even after limiting the location to the kitchen. In fact, it took exactly 36 hours. Here are a few gems:

November 08, 2011

I just finished a draft of the first chapter of my cookbook! This had me feeling pretty pleased with myself until I remembered that I have to do that nine more times. Things are going to get ugly come June, I can tell you that much.

So, what's it like writing a dessert cookbook? I won't lie. It's pretty awesome. Especially at this early stage where my editor isn't breathing down my neck, yet, and I can pretend that what I'm cooking and writing is exactly what she wants, and she's going to make sweet, sweet love to my manuscript! But I know that's all wrong. A good editor will poke holes in every aspect of what you've written, questioning the very foundation of your ideas, until the world as you knew it doesn't make sense anymore and slow death feels like a better alternative than all the nit-picking work you have ahead of you. Of course, after the revision process is complete, even you have to admit that your manuscript is a million times better than it was before, but by then all the hard work is over so it's a lot easier to be honest.

The biggest problem with a book that revolves around sugar, as you might imagine, is all the sugar flying around. Before I started this project, a five-pound bag of sugar could last me two months easy. Now I'm lucky if it lasts the week. My brown sugar spends so little time in the pantry that it stays soft and fluffy instead of turning into the usual stale bag of marbles. I'm single-handedly keeping Cabot in the butter business. And I don't even want to tell you how many empty containers of heavy cream are in my recycling bin right now, but it looks like all the neighborhood babies crawled over here last night and had a huge bender.

In order to stay on schedule, I draft 2-3 different recipes every week. Each one has to be made 2-3 times to get it to the level it needs to be. Maybe more if it insists on sucking. Often, that translates to seven or eight desserts coming out of my oven per week. In other words, 7-8 bowls that get licked, 7-8 cakes/pies/puddings to be tasted and compared to the ones before, each one tempting me with the sweet promise of a sugar-high and an equally dramatic sugar-low. My workout regimen can barely keep up!

The obvious answer to this problem of surplus sweets is to give them away, right? And I have many willing takers, including neighbors, teachers at my kids' school, and farmers at my farm. I'm more than happy to give away the good stuff. Proud, even. But who wants to claim credit for the crappy stuff? Not me. Even I have some pride. My creative process is messy and unpleasant. It's not good PR to be all, here, have another shitty cake and, by the way, buy my cookbook! Yet, I can't bear to throw food away. So what ends up happening is that the reject versions sit around for days cluttering up my kitchen counters until I realize that I need one of the baking dishes that's already in use. Before I know it, I've blacked out face-down over a tray of subpar bread pudding until Husband comes home and, after peeling my face out of the custard and clearing my airways, scrapes everything into the trash while I protest incomprehensibly.

See? It's not all fun and games, people. This is serious, serious business.

But I will say that I'm very proud of the work I've done so far. I can only hope that a diabetic coma doesn't claim me before I have a chance to finish!

November 03, 2011

Don't mind me, I'm just playing around with my new macro lens. You can pretty much count on me getting way, way too close to my food from now on. Just a heads-up.

This here is some luscious beef brisket and root vegetables braised until melty and scrumptious. Serve with mashed potatoes or over brown rice or barley and you've got yourself a rib-sticking meal that will fuel you through any unwelcome pre-Halloween shoveling. Hope those of you who lost power have gotten it back by now!

Braised Brisket

You can also do this in a slow cooker. Follow the recipe through the garlic part, then throw it all into the crockpot for 4-6 hours on high, 8-10 hours on low.

Preheat oven to 325°F. In a large Dutch oven, heat 1 Tbsp. oil over medium-high heat. Season brisket with salt and pepper and brown on all sides. Transfer to plate.

Heat remaining tablespoon of oil in pot. Add onions, carrots, parsnips, and celery root, and sauté until browned, about 5 minutes. Dump in the garlic and cook another minute. Add the tomatoes, cider vinegar, brown sugar, and stock/water, and give a good stir. Return the brisket to the pot along with any juices collecting on the plate. Liquid should come about halfway up the sides of the meat. If not, add a bit more stock or water.

Bring to a boil. Cover with foil so that it’s flat against the meat and comes all the way up the sides of the pan (you might need two sheets), and cover with lid. Place in the oven for about 3 1/2 hours, turning meat every hour and reconfiguring foil, until meat is super-tender and vegetables are soft and melty. Serve with mashed potatoes or grain of your choice.